


Surfing

by lunarsilverwolfstar



Series: August 2016 Prompts [12]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s01e03 Lone Gunmen, F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9162028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsilverwolfstar/pseuds/lunarsilverwolfstar
Summary: Guilt is a heavy burden. It never goes away, but sometimes...sometimes you meet someone that helps you carry it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day 11.
> 
> I just love writing about their first meeting.

Page after page blinked on the screen as Felicity looked at every news source. The words blurred and she felt the mother of all migraines setting in. She knew she shouldn’t be going through everything so quickly, but it wasn’t so much a headache from running through each site as it was _what_  the news said.

**_Oliver Queen Back From the Dead_ **

**_Prodigal Son Returns_ **

**_Long Live Oliver Queen!_ **

She had just been innocently surfing the web after getting rid of a few viruses from people who thought visiting porn websites during work was a good idea when she got the news alert on her tablet. Finally, she came across a candid picture of the man. He was obviously trying very hard to dodge the cameras, but someone had been lucky enough to snap a shot just as he was ducking, a bodyguard just a tad too late to cover him. Right away she knew it wasn’t a fake. The man in the picture had short hair, scruff around his face, and a larger posture, but there was no doubt that it was Oliver Queen. Felicity sat back in her chair and processed.

While she had never known him personally, having begun her job at Queen Consolidated roughly two years ago, she had heard stories. She had also seen his family. While she never personally dealt with Moira Queen or the current CEO, Walter Steele (who was now Oliver’s stepfather...well, frack; wouldn’t that be interesting news to break to the guy?), Felicity had seen a sadness in the businesswoman that was always present. Her new husband helped and, really, if one didn’t pay too close attention, she was always the proud and confident woman who ran her husband’s company. It was when the woman thought no one was watching that she let her guard down and Felicity had born witness to her sorrow a couple of times.

Looking at the article she had left open, a sharp pang suddenly shot through her heart. It was good to see someone have a happy story, but it suddenly reminded her of her own loss. It had been over two years now and while it had become easier to manage, the guilt was something Felicity always carried with her. She did her best not to let it define her, but sometimes she felt like all she was doing was putting up a facade. Inhaling, she shook her head and got back to work.

She tried to ignore as the world grew chaotic around her. The news of Oliver Queen’s resurrection was all anyone talked about, however. Even she couldn’t help but listen in as Moira Queen gave a small press release of how glad she was her son had returned to her family. Now there was someone who didn’t have to carry the burden of a loved one’s death. Ignoring this was harder than she thought, but of course, she worked for the Queens. She knew, however, that this would blow over soon and all would be back to normal.

“Felicity Smoak?”  


The blonde looked up and blinked. The man she had seen on the news just a couple of months ago was suddenly right before her, just on the other side of her desk. She let go of the pen she was chewing.

“Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.”  


Okay, Felicity, be cool, be calm about this. “Of course! I know who you are,” she blurted out, “you’re Mr. Queen.” Well, so much for that.

His small chuckle had butterflies fluttering around in her stomach where they had no business being. “No,” he emphasized, “Mr. Queen was my father.”

“Right, but he’s dead,” _oh frack, just shut up, Felicity, shut up right now!_  “I mean, he drowned...but you didn’t, which means you could come to the I.T. and listen to me babble...” _Finally_ , she was losing steam, though she was pretty sure it was because the small grin she’d been gifted with literally stole all her thoughts, “Which will end, in three, two, one.”  


The grin was still present, which birthed more butterflies, and as he asked her about the laptop he had brought, the _literally shot_  laptop, Felicity knew nothing would ever be normal again.


End file.
